November 03, 2008

Should I be upset that the Patriots put on such a farcical performance against the Colts in the fourth quarter when they had a chance to come back, or should I be psyched that even with a beat-up secondary, Peyton Manning and Co. only won by three points?

This matchup was tough to judge leading up to the game. The Patriots are without Brady, but we've seen how they've shown steady improvement in the absence of their marquee player. Peyton Manning is still hobbled from an infection in his knee (or at least that's the speculation), but he's still Peyton Manning, and our secondary is still decimated. In the past, watching these teams play was like watching two heavyweights go toe-to-toe; this time around it was more like those heavyweights each had an arm tied behind their back.

In the aftermath, there's the sense--as there often is after Colts-Patriots showdown, however banged up the personnel involved--of just-missed opportunity. Maybe there's an irony to this razor-thin margin of error given the demolition derby these teams have been through leading up to it, but it turned out to be the same as it ever was: a tense contest, and full of turning points it was all too easy to imagine having gone the other way.

October 21, 2008

Yesterday there were a number of places where that was an expression befitting the Patriots. First among them the fact that Broncos quarterback Jay Cutler injured his index finger on his throwing hand on his very first pass attempt of the game and wasn't the same after that. From the very beginning of the game, this neutralized what had been an intimidating matchup of a deep thrower against a Patriots secondary that had not exactly showered itself in glory against the Chargers.

There were many aspects of this game in which the Broncos simply beat themselves. They committed 8 penalties for a total of 87 yards, and in devastating places--toward the end of the second quarter, for example, the Broncos defense had Cassel backed up almost to his own end zone, facing a 3rd and 17, which he failed to convert. But the Broncs were called for a facemask penalty on that play, 15 yards and an automatic first down. An unnecessary roughness penalty not even a clock-minute later brought the Patriots to the 50. This was a series that led to a Patriots touchdown.

It was encouraging to see Cassel with a 136.3 passer rating, but this was against one of the worst-ranked defenses--especially against the pass--in the league. It was wonderful to see Randy Moss with two touchdowns, but this was only after Champ Bailey pulled up of his own accord with a groin injury. Before that, Bailey had been a beast, shutting down Moss all night.

So we have our grains (or shakers) of salt. But there were also some genuinely encouraging signs for the Patriots.

September 22, 2008

When I argued that this is not a lost season for the Patriots shortly after Tom Brady went down, the relative ease of their schedule this year, especially early on, was something I took into account. Miami at home has been all but a lock over the last few years; while I knew it wouldn't be a cakewalk, I wasn't expecting this.

Neither, it seemed, were many of my fellow Patriots fans, who flooded talk radio yesterday afternoon with their views on exactly who lost the game. To my consternation, and that of the radio hosts I was listening to, there was a vocal faction wanting to ship out Matt Cassel and give Kevin O'Connell a shot under center.

Call me a quarterback apologist, but I didn't see this loss as Cassel's fault. At least, not totally.It's true he faltered in the red zone, as he had against the Jets (luckily 1,000 field goals were enough to beat them). The Tuna's defense kept him shuffling between the 20s all day, not something that would've happened to Brady.

However, Cassel also doesn't seem to be getting much protection. You could argue that Brady just made it look like he had more time because of his calm style, or hid a multitude of blocking sins with his mobility in the pocket, but there were times yesterday Cassel didn't even have a second to set his feet. Then there was Randy Moss, shutting it down in the third quarter and showing shades of his old self.

And to lay it all on the backup QB would amount to a grossly unfair overlooking of the defense yesterday, which played as if opposing runningbacks were invisible. There's plenty of blame to go around - one analysis I've seen attributes the effectiveness of the Dolphins' running game to deception from a spread formation, hardly the kind of thing it seems the Patriots should fall for - which suggests that this team has deeper problems than its Hall of Fame quarterback's left knee. That in itself is an unsettling thought.

Although, maybe I should have been expecting this. After all, the Dolphins were the last team to beat the Patriots in the regular season, and that time was even more of an upset - and even more of a crushing loss. That time was with Brady at the helm, the Patriots didn't even get on the board, and every member of the Dolphins was outfitted in traffic-cone-orange shoes. It was a game Kristen and I came to refer to with the statement, "What Miami game?" because the Patriots were headed for the playoffs anyway, and there were bigger fish to fry, and so it seemed the best course of action was to forget the game ever happened. In fact, this is probably the first time I've acknowledged its existence since.

Old-school Pats fans like my Dad have more animosity toward the Dolphins than I do, recalling the days when the Dolphins were dominant and the Pats were so bad not all of their games were even televised locally. So it was an especially bitter thing to some to have this latest regular-season winning streak bookended by losses to Miami. And wouldn't you know it'd be the Tuna cackling on the other side of the ball when it was time for another streak to end.

All of that said, it's pretty tough even for a Pats homer like myself to feel too terribly about this. I'm supposed to be grieving the first lost regular-season game in two years? The week after the team tied its own consecutive-regular-season-win record? Please. I'm spoiled, but I'm not that spoiled.

Even if I was, we've lost both a heartbreaking Super Bowl and our star quarterback in the last 8 months. This game was a sucker punch, but it pales in comparison.

January 21, 2008

While everyone west of Albany gently wept, the sports world found itself once again victimized by East Coast bias in a national championship: The New England Patriots and New York Giants will face each other in this year's Super Bowl, bringing together the same charming groups of fans that brought you Red Sox vs. Yankees and, I can only assume, further alienating our fellow fans in the heartland.

In their separate games, the Patriots and Giants both showed breathtaking tenacity in bone-crackingly cold temperatures, and both showed why the last game they played against each other in Week 16 was so dramatic. After watching the Championship games yesterday, I can only agree with one of our esteemed commenters in predicting that the Super Bowl will be "jolly tough."

Both games had their heartbreak--Phillip Rivers battled valiantly against a sprained knee to play four gritty, respectable quarters, despite gimping around painfully on a braced-up right leg. Brett Favre, the lion in winter, led his team one last time into overtime, just a heartbeat away from one last trip to the Big Dance, before he succumbed to fate in the form of the New York Giants.

Both games had their mysteries. Ladanian Tomlinson has been the source of some bewilderment, having spent all but a few plays skulking like Darth Vader behind his helmet's sun-shade on the heated bench. And what caused New York Giants kicker Lawrence Tynes to miss not one, but two, potentially game-winning kicks?

But then, both games had their unlikely heroes. Kevin Faulk was the indisputable MVP of the AFC Championship Game, and his diving, barreling catch for a crucial third down as the Patriots bled the clock in the fourth quarter was the moment we knew: 18-0 was on its way. And poor Lawrence Tynes would not pass up a third chance to redeem himself.

There were some differences, of course. Somehow, bizarrely, sadly, the Packers basically handed the NFC Championship to the Giants, when they won the battle of who could incur the worst luck by turning the ball over in sudden-death overtime. I personally will never forget the look on Tom Coughlin's frost-bitten face after Tynes missed that first field goal and ambled back over toward the sideline; the Packers had lost that game twice before they even got into OT. I was already planning to ask a Giants-fan / Yankees-fan friend of mine if Lawrence Tynes could be considered the Bill Buckner of New York football once the game was over. Favre had it all laid out for him on a platter, too, winning the coin toss to begin overtime and at first driving confidently down the field. And then the aging gunslinger was struck down by his own impatience, as he has been so often, and threw an interception. Moments later, on his longest attempt yet of 47 yards, Tynes didn't miss a third time.

The Patriots won a different way--their usual way. They were stymied in the first half, but they all kept grinding away relentlessly, until ever so slowly, they first bent, and then broke, the will of the other team. Tom Brady wasn't sharp (there! I said it! OK!?), but by the third quarter, the offense had at least found a rhythm in the form of Laurence Maroney, who plowed through the Chargers with sheer force of will. The final two clock-bleeding drives in the fourth quarter to crush the last of San Diego's hopes weren't the Brady-Moss Show New Englanders are constantly fiending for, but they had their own kind of ruthless beauty.

Ultimately, though, Bill Belichick was hoisting the Lamar Hunt Trophy yesterday because of the defense. As a unit, the defense is this team's Most Improved Player, and yesterday was a vintage Belichick masterpiece, straight out of the glory days of the 'Homeland Defense' of 2003. Had it not been for the Patriots' resilience inside the 10-yard-line, turning potential touchdowns into field goals almost every time, the final score might well have been 28-21...Chargers.

Last night, as I watched the Patriots wriggle their way to a win like Houdini, I realized that if there's one image I will take with me that encapsulates this season, it actually won't be a long bomb downfield from Brady to Moss. It will instead be the image of Bill Belichick with his back to the field mid-game, crouched down with a white board, drawing arrows and circles and shouting urgently over the cacophany of the stadium at his veteran linebackers. The glamour for this team is in the offense, but its heart and soul are on the other side of the ball.

It's a scary proposition nonetheless to face the team that came closer than any other to destroying the Patriots' dreams of perfection this year, and which is emerging victorious and full of confidence from the howling hell that is Lambeau Field in January. You could say they were lucky; at the same time, they played as physical a game as I've ever seen in the most extreme weather conditions possible, showing that what they lack in having a Manning for a quarterback, they make up for in intestinal fortitude. (I kid, I kid. Well. Sort of.) I don't relish the thought of facing them again.

January 13, 2008

Remember how I said in my game preview Thursday that the Jaguars' willingness to give the Patriots bulletin-board material made me wonder what else they weren't getting? Today a post by Denton at Surviving Grady made me realize I should've been even more worried about those boys.

He (Jags defensive lineman Paul Spicer) used some tape, wood and elbow grease and -- presto! -- there it was. A sledgehammer. A freaking sledgehammer. The sledgehammer became a week-long symbol for the Jaguars leading up to their game against New England. The Jaguars were going to pound some damn heads.

Then came the best part of the story: Spicer brought his spanking-new sledgehammer onto the team charter flight here. There have been NFL players who brought guns and mistresses on team flights, but never a sledgehammer. How exactly do you pack a sledgehammer, anyway? Is that a carry-on?

In the minutes prior to the divisional game, which would end with New England going to 17-0, the entire Jaguars team made a motion like they were pounding a sledgehammer into the ground of Gillette Stadium. They were really buying into this.

Okay. There are a couple of questions I have about this. Number one, the one the article cited by Denton asked--how does one get a sledgehammer onto an airplane, even if it is a charter flight? Especially if one is a gigantic professional football player? Another question: why did Spicer have to fashion a sledgehammer himself out of wood and adhesives? Is he not a highly paid professional football player? Can he not buy a real sledgehammer instead? Presumably if airport security lets a handmade sledgehammer onto a flight, a real sledgehammer won't be too much more of a security risk.

And yes, I know how charming a story it might have been if the plucky Jaguars and their homemade sledgehammer had managed to upset the mighty Patriots, but sadly for pretty much everyone outside New England, this year's Patriots are here to ruin storylines like that with clinical football precision.

The Defense Lays the Smack Down

The Jaguars and their improvised demolition equipment gave the Patriots a run for their money for the first half of the game, which was tied at 14 by halftime. At the time, still fearing the upset, I was hyperventilating, but in retrospect, there were a couple of pieces of luck that had brought the Jaguars even that close. One was, of course, the missed field goal by Stephen Gostkowski, a simple lack of execution by the special teams unit that would've made it 17-14.

Another was that the desperate fling by David Garrard from his knee at the end of the Jags' opening drive found a receiver in the end zone, and that it also wasn't challenged by Bill Belichick, who had the red flag out as the Jags lined up for the PAT but decided to stick it back in his sock.

Though it worked out in his favor, Garrard's last-second heave might also have gone the other way. And the next time he didn't protect the football--when Ty Warren knocked one of his own linemen into him on the next drive and the ball came loose--he paid for it with a turnover rather than profiting with a touchdown. Mike Vrabel fell on the ball, and moments later the Patriots capitalized with a short power run from Lawrence Maroney to make it 14-7.

As many predicted prior to the game, the Patriots defense looked overmatched, at least at first, by the Jags' power running game. Fred Taylor, especially, physically overpowered the Pats in the first half. It was also a nice piece of game-planning by Del Rio to come out throwing, which in turn depended on a lot of truly commendable execution from Garrard. When they switched back to the run after burning the Patriots on the pass, they had the Pats back on their heels. At least, for a little while.

But as we saw with the Giants, the Jags couldn't keep up with the Patriots through 60 minutes of football, primarily because of the admirable stamina of the "old and slow" Patriots defense.

They showed incredible tenacity when it came to keeping up with the Jacksonville ground attack; time and again, I saw someone for whom the running back was at least their second assignment make the stop. Especially early on, Rodney Harrison or Tedy Bruschi would provide the last line of defense, a testament to their veteran expertise and all-around heads-up play. Fred Taylor ran all over the Pats defense in the first half, but he also never really broke away.

The Pats defense eventually solved Garrard, too, as evidenced by Rodney Harrison's smooth-handed interception in the fourth quarter to seal the game. Quick fun fact when it comes to Rodney Harrison and interceptions: according to the Boston Globe, Rodney became the first player in history this season to amass 30 interceptions (33) and 30 sacks (30.5). He looked it on that play, too, jumping the receiver's route without the slightest hesitation, and snatching up the ball with confidence.

The Offense is Picture-Perfect

But while the defense was the key, it also shouldn't be overlooked that the Patriots' offense put on a clinic last night. To quote Patriots broadcaster Gil Santos, "the numbers are astonishing" when it comes to Tom Brady: 26 completions in 28 passing attempts, three touchdowns and no interceptions. His Statue of Liberty play to open scoring in the second half was a thing of beauty, and probably, as Kristen pointed out, the turning point of the game.

But another stat of Brady's stands out for different reasons: 262 total yards passing. Not bad by any stretch, but not the kind of yardage you might expect a record-breaking quarterback to have amassed in a relatively high-scoring game. Instead, the Patriots stayed away from their typical passing approach on many crucial downs, and running by Maroney made more big plays than Brady's arm. This perhaps unexpected mix of offense was more than the Jaguars could keep up with, especially with the Patriots executing even trick plays with flawless precision.

When the passing game came into play, it saw contributions from members of the roster whose names haven't been called with the most frequency this season. Benjamin Watson made two touchdown catches, including a one-handed grab on a bullet from Brady for the Pats' first score. This was incredible to see coming from a man who so often earns my father's scornful "hands like feet" designation. Dante Stallworth, too, took over Randy Moss's responsibilities as the deep threat with aplomb. Moss, meanwhile, contributed most to the game not when making leaping grabs but when blocking for Maroney; Jabar Gaffney, too, helped spring running teammates with crucial blocks.

To review: the highest-flying passing offense in the history of the league emphasized the running game this time around, and its marquee quarterback and wide receiver stepped aside for key contributions from relatively unsung players. Scary. And more proof than ever before that Bill Belichick has truly hit on something special when it comes to his method of managing players, if he can inspire the kinds of performances that we saw last night.

Another Victory for the Belichick Method

I think the first element that makes his strategy successful is the fact that there is no such thing as a minor role or an unimportant player in his system. Every player is expected to fulfill his role every week, regardless of his place on the depth chart. Thus when he needs to switch for strategic reasons away from the Brady-Moss Show, he can do so with success.

The second key to Belichick's player-management system that I think makes them so successful is the way he takes care of the linear, rational side of the game for his players so completely. He expects them to understand their options and roles in any given situation and to make split-second decisions during games, but when it comes to managing events over any bigger time frame than that, he takes it completely off their hands, freeing them to focus on their individual roles.

A third element of Belichick's success is that he focuses on the fundamentals with his players. All of his receivers are expected to make crucial catches in key situations, not just Randy Moss and Wes Welker. His running backs are expected to step up and produce positive yardage when necessary, even if the Patriots spend 9 out of every 10 snaps in some games passing. Similarly, the offensive linemen are expected to enact passing and running attack techniques with equal ease; the defense is expected to stop the best running offense in the league, and pick off its perhaps underrated quarterback when the situation calls for it. In the Sports Illustrated profile on the Jaguars last week, Del Rio praised Garrard's ability to execute plays that haven't been called for a while in practice or haven't been talked about more than once. Belichick takes this ability as a given--in all of his players.

Finally, every man on the roster, 1 through 53, has not only a role and an understanding of that role on the team, but the physical stamina to perform in that role for a full 60 minutes of football. It's been amazing to me to watch, now that Belichick's been drumming it into this year's Patriots squad, how many professional football teams there are out there that let up after 45, 50, even 55 minutes. And yet we've played, and beaten, several teams this year in exactly that way.

The conditioning issue aside, I do often wonder how opponents can really game-plan for Bill Belichick's Patriots. Even the supposed weaknesses of the team don't seem so weak all of a sudden if the head coach's game plan dictates it. Whatever you assume he's going to do, Bill Belichick knows what you're going to assume, and then does the opposite, through a system of player development that makes it possible for the team to do the opposite of its natural strengths, and still win the game.

That's why his team is now 17-0, and playing for the conference championship next week, for the fifth time in 7 years.

December 30, 2007

To say the Giants came out fighting in this one would be an understatement. Though technically this was a meaningless game for both sides, the Giants sent out their first string with murder in its eye throughout the contest. Up until less than 5 minutes to go in the third quarter, the G-Men held a double-digit lead over the Patriots, and it felt like we might be seeing a great downfall rather than an ascension into immortality.

I had thought about this as the hype built prior to the game. During the afternoon, I heard innumerable radio personalities waxing breezily confident about how the Patriots would be 16-0 before midnight. The NFL Network's commentators were similarly fatalistic, to say nothing of the "Path to Perfection" highlights shown at predetermined points throughout the game, which became excruciating to watch with the Patriots down double digits.

The hype and the confidence and the forward-looking statements had all set my superstitious alarm bells jangling. It had all the makings of an upset (remember the Rams and "a dynasty is born"?); up until about 11:15 in the fourth quarter, that's what it seemed like it was going to be.

This feeling of dread culminated with a failed attempt by Brady to hit Moss deep. "He's got Moss!" Bryant Gumbel shouted as Brady took two purposeful big steps up in the pocket, and launched a bomb.

Moss was wide open--the Giants had fallen down on the coverage and he was practically alone by the right sideline some 50 yards downfield. The ball zoomed straight toward him, but low. Still, I've seen Randy Moss catch the ball when it was behind his back. I've seen him catch the ball when it was past him. I've seen him catch the ball while being interfered with flagrantly by not one but two defensive backs. I've seen him catch the ball one-handed in midair on an overthrown pass.

This time, Randy Moss dropped the ball.

The pass was low, but it was catchable, especially for Moss. And yet in it came, through his hands, and bounced to the turf.

This, I was sure, was the big turning point. The two men most in the spotlight for the Patriots all season, the two men with the chance to break records, were literally dropping the ball in the biggest game yet. "Oh...my...goodness." one of the commentators intoned sotto voce.

The Patriots went back to the huddle. Already I could feel all the Patriots haters ready to pounce; already I could anticipate the kind of gleeful schadenfreunde that would follow us all the way into the off-season.

They went back to what looked like the same play. Moss sprinted down the right sideline and Brady took those purposeful steps in the pocket again. We held our breath as he put the ball in the air. (It turned out later that the second play was a different one designed to hit Welker for the first down, but the Giants' defensive backs tried to jump Welker's route, leaving Moss open, and Brady checked to him instead.)

This time, the pass was sheer perfection, arcing just so over midfield to drop, whisper-soft, into Moss's hands in stride as he raced for the end zone. This time, they nailed it: 65 yards including reception and run, to score the touchdown that put the Patriots ahead, and in one fell swoop broke the single-season individual touchdown passing and reception records.

Wes Welker got to Moss first, followed by Jabar Gaffney and Benjamin Watson. Soon Vince Wilfork was joining in on the fun from the sideline. Tedy Bruschi was shown beside himself with hollering joy on the bench. The offensive linemen gleefully gave the 'touchdown' signal with their own arms. Laurence Maroney grinned behind his face mask.

The camera's lens, and by extension the eyes of the world, then swung to the man of the hour, No. 12, as he strode down the field after making history, eager to capture a fist-pump, a grin, a gesture of joy.

Instead, Brady was headed toward the goal line, holding up two fingers. Not V for victory, but a signal to his teammates to huddle back up again. They were going for two.

That about sums it up. Sums up Brady, sums up the Patriots, sums up the game. Some players might be satisfied to have put their team ahead to preserve the undefeated season while breaking the all-time single-season passing record. Tom Brady wanted two more points. Immediately.

This isn't to say the Patriots were total stuffed shirts about the whole thing. Later, they took a team-celebration timeout (though technically it was the Giants' time-out, a very classy gesture by that team to let the Pats celebrate on their time) as the final seconds ticked off the clock, probably the first such timeout I've ever witnessed. Bill Belichick cracked an untold number of smiles postgame. Brady was bounding about among his exhausted teammates after the game like a hyperactive kid fed Pixie Stix.

But the Patriots also made sure to emphasize, post-game, that they know what lies ahead. I think Randy Moss said it best, when he took the press conference podium.

"We're going to go ahead and celebrate," he admitted. But he then made sure to add, "for about 24, and no more than 48 hours."

December 24, 2007

Last night, as the clock ticked down to zero, history was made. The Patriots, having broken the all-time single-season team touchdown record, sent Tom Brady and Randy Moss along a little further on the path to breaking the single season touchdown passing and reception individual records, and became the first franchise ever to win 15 consecutive regular season games.

It was a thrill to be a part of it. It was a thrill to say I was there. The rain had largely held off and it was a balmy evening (especially by Gillette Stadium standards in December), and considering what the win meant historically, I was surprised at how few people were left in the stands at the end of the game.

It's true the Patriots had put the Dolphins away handily by halftime, but for one thing, in the second half the play of the Patriots dropped precipitously, and by the same token, the Dolphins appeared to have remembered suddenly how to play football again. Though there was still a 21-point gap between the two teams, at some points, especially in the third quarter, the outcome was more in doubt than the final score would lead you to imagine.

More importantly, this was the first time in NFL history this has ever happened. The last team to hold this record has held it for 25 years. Yet being there as that particular distinction was clinched apparently wasn't that important to most of the fans who'd been there at the beginning? I have to say I don't understand that. I also have to say that had it been Fenway Park, not a soul would've left their seat until the end, just so they could all pat themselves on the back and cheer for having been there. But not here. I wish I knew why.

I also wish I knew why the Patriots seemed to be a completely different team in the second half. In the first half, also riding high from having seen members of the Red Sox on the field during pregame introductions, I had decided by halftime that it was probably going to be my favorite Patriots game that I've seen in person. So far, this had been the pattern: we would all stand up and holler our fool heads off for the defense just to get off the field as quickly as possible so the offense could come back again.

And when the offense did come back...it was like a curtain call. A victory lap. An exhibition rather than a competition.

They were trying plays they had no business making. Twice in a row, Jabar Gaffney made catches that by rights should've been intercepted by the cornerback, and the second of these turned in to a touchdown. In a third-and-three situation near the Patriots' 40, Brady handed off the ball to Laurence Maroney, who cut around the left side instead of driving straight through the pile, and, sprung by a tremendous block from Heath Evans, he ran right past the box where all of Miami's defenders were stacked up, 59 yards all the way to the end zone. It was his longest run of the season.

It seemed like everything the Patriots' offense touched turned to gold. Moss and Brady had two touchdown pass / reception combos between them, and we were counting down on our fingers how many both of them needed to break the records by the second quarter. The second Brady / Moss TD came on a goal-line play-action fake so beautiful that it had my Dad ranting and raving with excitement about it for the rest of the night.

On the defensive side of the first half, we saw a jarring hit by Rodney Harrison on Dolphins' tight end David Martin, who otherwise would have caught a pass for a big gain. Rodney belted him right in the chest with a forearm, sending him reeling and knocking the ball loose instead. The stadium was possessed after it happened--the savagery of that mighty blow from Rodney lit up the crowd almost visibly.

Thus the pump was primed for further bloodthirsty defensive celebration after Heath Evans pancaked Ted Ginn Jr. on the kickoff return after the Pats took a 21-0 lead in the second quarter. Rodney's hit was probably harder, but Evans had more leverage with with to clothesline the onrushing Ginn, and the Evans hit looked even more spectacular, with bodies sprawling all over the place. Gillette was a zoo.

Then, when Tedy Bruschi batted down what would certainly have been the Dolphins' first touchdown pass of the game just before halftime...forget about it. It was a party. It was a celebration. It was one of the best times I've ever had at Gillette for 30 triumphant minutes.

And then, just as the party reached its zenith, there was a brief intermission, where, for once, all three contestants in one of those kick-a-field-goal-for-a-prize contests got the ball through the uprights. As it turns out, that was pretty much the last excitement for the home crowd for the night.

Like I said, I wish I knew why, exactly, the Patriots broke down--or, more accurately, stagnated--in the second half. I know that the play choices were different than I expected in many cases; many offensive drives stalled after attempts at long bombs to Moss from Brady that didn't work for one reason or another (usually because they were long-shot plays to begin with). It might have been that with a 21-point lead, the Patriots were taking more chances with tricky plays, the better to practice them while they had the leeway. Or that Brady was thinking too much about himself and Moss and their records when he made decisions about where to pass, but that would be out of character, for him and for the team.

It's also worth remembering that early this season, Brady hovered at around an 80 percent pass completion rate. Last night he was 18 of 33. Not dazzling the way he was in the first half of the season, but not as terrible as it looks in contrast to Brady's otherworldly first half. Some people I've heard from since the game have reasoned that Brady and Co. raised our expectations to such ludicrous levels in the early season that what is still above-average play is looking like a problem. Others are feeling very Chicken Little about it.

Me, I'm on the fence. I would rather have all the facts before making any pronouncements about what it means for the team long-term, and I don't. Clearly, Miami made some adjustments, but unless the real Miami Dolphins had been bound and gagged on their team bus until halftime and were liberated in time to replace their impostors for the third quarter, obviously something was going on on the Patriots' side as well.

And the issues weren't limited to the offense. The defense, too, which had made short work of the Dolphins in the first half, the better to get the Tom Brady Show back out on the gridiron, was backed up deep into its own territory on many occasions and surrendered points in the third quarter. By the fourth quarter, the defense showed flashes of regrouping, with several sacks on Cleo Lemon and no further points allowed, but the offense never really came back together. As for why it happened and what it means, I'm open to suggestions. I'm afraid I don't have an answer myself.

It was a strange way to end what had been an all-time record-breaking football game: in a mostly-empty stadium, with our third-string quarterback at the helm of the offense, and with a sour taste in my mouth from the last two quarters of lackluster performance from the Patriots on both sides of the ball.

In the end, when you balance the second half against the first half, things come out fair to middlin'. If both halves had been like the first, it would probably have been the best game I'd ever seen. If both halves had been like the second half, it might have been the worst. As it was, things just wound up evening out; it had its good moments and its bad moments like any other football game. Which may feel odd to a fan excited to see history, but it's also exactly the way Bill Belichick's Patriots operate.

December 17, 2007

Far be it from me to look too critically on another win for the Patriots, especially one that makes them just the second team in NFL history to go 14-0 (the other is the 1972 Miami Dolphins, and we all know what else that team is famous for), and that's not what I'm trying to do here. But this was definitely not the type of game I'd expected the Pats and Jets to play.

Despite the weather, I and my fellow Patriots fans had been anticipating an offensive shootout, a 72-point romp over the green and white just to remind everybody who's who in the AFC East. Maybe because of the weather--or maybe because of the game plan, how can we outside the mind of Bill Belichick be certain?--the punishment served up on the Jets yesterday was not a bevy of points, but rather, a bone-crunching defensive approach.

The prime example of this was Richard Seymour's hit on Roger Kellen Clemens (as if we needed any more motivation in New England--the starting QB for the Jets yesterday was named Clemens.) in the first quarter. Backed up into his own end zone by stellar special-teams play on the Patriots' side, Clemens was dropping back to pass across his body to a receiver on his left side, and Seymour smashed through the line just as Clemens drew his arm back to release the ball. Clemens got the ball away in time to avoid a sack, but not in time to avoid the Pain Train that Seymour was driving, as New England's monstrous DE lifted Clemens into the air and slammed him back down to the cement-cold turf with 310 pounds of punishing force.

The better to get a good grip on the helpless quarterback, Seymour pinned his left arm down with his shoulder flexed on Clemens' left side; when he landed, it looked like Clemens sustained a separation of the shoulder, but his injury has been listed as his ribs (no further detail has been given). Either way, that one hit on Clemens meant it was time for Chad Pennington to suit up for the hot seat.

I think there was more to that hit than sheer viciousness--I think that hit not only demonstrated loud and clear to the Jets' offensive line that they were not stacking up against their opponents, and it also forced what might have been a totally unprepared bench-riding QB into the fray. It's no secret I'm not much of a Pennington fan, but he did acquit himself well when he was tapped to take over for Clemens. Especially for a guy who could have taken a vacation while sidelined, he was very well prepared and led the team to a respectable point margin against the Patriots.

So it wasn't the blowout we were hoping for, but the hits just kept on coming, until by the third quarter it was clear that defense, and not offense, was the weapon of choice for both parties in this much-hyped tete a tete. The game finally ended with Chad Pennington's face in the dirt not once, but twice, as the Jets made final desperation passing attempts with that tantalizing deficit of 10 points still dangling in front of them on the scoreboard. Maybe not a blowout, but demoralizing nonetheless. Despite the relatively lackluster offensive performance (Tom Brady had his lowest passer rating of the season of 43), after the game, both Bill Belichick and Tom Brady were smiling to themselves like cats full to the brim with canary.

And so now we look to *gulp* Miami. Yes, I know, they only managed to pull out their single victory this season just last week, and otherwise have been beaten by every opponent, including the 52-7 shellacking at the hands of the Patriots earlier this season. But the Dolphins late in the season is a notorious trap game for the Patriots. As Kristen put it, "I know I pretend that the Monday night game against Miami where the Dolphins dressed as traffic cones and blinded the Patriots and Brady into a confusion and forced him to throw interceptions from his ass never happened but the truth is, I remember it." I've adopted the same policy of denial, but I, too, will admit the memory of that game is seared deep into my brain stem. It may be tempting, but I won't underestimate the Miami Dolphins, especially not when all-time glory is on the line.

December 09, 2007

As the intricate patterns of the offense unfolded in this game, I thought to myself, it is a good thing that Tom Brady and his receivers are so familiar with one another through both practice and in-game experience given the seemingly infinite spectrum of plays they're expected to execute on command. It is also a good thing that the Patriots got used to playing full-tilt for the entire game; it seems from some of the player comments I've heard that Bill Belichick has put an extra emphasis on conditioning this year from training camp on.

In other words, it is a good thing that earlier this season, Tom Brady wasn't pulled from games at halftime, and a good thing that the Patriots didn't face their tougher opponents with no clue how the first-string offense could perform together in the fourth quarter.

Just sayin'.

Anyway.

To beat the Patriots, you must be as good as they are. It sounds silly and obvious, but when you really think about it, there are many facets and permutations to that, because if the Patriots are one thing above all others, they are thorough. You must be as good as they are at more things than just defense and offense. You must be as good as they are at filling the inevitable holes due to injury. You must also be as good as they are mentally and physically through a full 60 minutes of football.

That was the first reason that Pittsburgh lost. It seemed at first that Pittsburgh had given New England the predicted run for their money. They had succumbed to a big play, Brady to a wide open Randy Moss, after the most beautiful play-action fake I've ever seen, by Lawrence Maroney, to make it 14-3 in the first half, but came back under the leadership of Roethlisberger to make it 14-13 as the final minutes of the half ticked down. The Patriots' offense stalled and they only managed to tack on another 3 points before the half, and it seemed the Steelers might be able to continue the comeback when things got back under way in the third quarter.

But then, they were victimized by another big play--this time a wobbly but successfully executed flea-flicker from Brady to Moss to Brady and then 65 yards in the air to Jabar Gaffney for a much more comfortable score of 24-13. And after that, it seemed as if the first half had been about as long as the Steelers could stay with the Patriots, physically or mentally.

By the time it was 31-13 with just under four minutes to go in the third quarter, the Steelers defense was showing the time-honored sign of football frustration: getting into fights between plays. On the play that scored the Patriots touchdown, Logan Mankins laid a pile-driver on his opponent that quickly became a tangle of blue and yellow uniforms as more got in on the extracurriculars. Mankins' actions were questionable, but it felt like it was the Steelers who were coming apart.

However, mental fatigue and frustration were not the only reasons the Steelers failed to break the Patriots' streak today. There was also an important issue with the Steelers defense which I overlooked when previewing the game yesterday: the absence of Troy Polamalu.

Without the Pro Bowl safety to guide and cover for them, Polamalu's junior counterparts, Anthony Smith and Ike Taylor, were completely exposed by Tom Brady and the Patriots offense, on the big plays and indeed most of the little ones in between. The Patriots had--do not attempt to adjust your sets--22 net yards rushing to 399 net yards passing* on the game. They picked away at Smith and Taylor both physically (through sheer exhaustion) and mentally (Brady kicked off the inter-play debates with Smith in the first quarter), and by the third quarter, the exhausted duo broke (Smith probably kicking himself all the while about his pregame comments guaranteeing a Steelers win in the press). The hapless safeties were also the goats on the big plays, both times forgetting a cardinal rule of defending the Patriots: never come up.

Also not to be overlooked, however, is the Patriots' own defense, who by the looks of it spent the week in a crucible of drills designed to whip them into better shape than they've been all season. This was easily the best defensive game of the year for New England, the crown jewel of which was the goal-line stand in the fourth quarter to preserve the second-half shutout.

Yep, you read that right, second-half shutout. The 13th point scored in the first-half comeback would be the last one Pittsburgh would put on the board. In the end, the Patriots defense held the Steelers to just one touchdown and two field goals for the entire game.

The Pittsburgh defense did make a dent in the Patriots offense, who were a less-than-their-usual-stella-selves 2 for 4 in the red zone and 2 for 3 in goal-to-go situations. There was also the matter of the missed field goal by Gostowski in the second quarter. But over on their side of the ball, the Patriots defense was simply spectacular: the Steelers were oh-fer in red zone and goal-to-go efficiency for the game. The Patriots were stymied at times, but the Steelers put up goose eggs.

The two standout defensive players for me were Mike Vrabel, who seemed to be the designated pass rusher tonight, and came for Roethlisberger on a dizzying number of plays like a bat out of hell; and Rodney Harrison, who was playing under his favorite conditions: as a member of an underestimated (or, perhaps more accurately, critically assessed) defensive unit. Thankfully, Rodney did most of his talking between the lines tonight.

November 04, 2007

By the time the second half of this game opened, I had already begun composing my post for this blog in my head about how, exactly, the Colts had managed to beat the Patriots.It wasn't just that the Colts were ahead 13-7 as the third quarter began; they had also been outplaying the Patriots in most phases of the game in the first half.

This especially included the running game (identified in pregame prediction posts as one of the keys to the game) from Joseph Addai, who would finish with 112 of the team's 118 yards rushing. The Colts had a much more balanced attack than the Pats, achieving 10 of their first downs rushing and 9 of them passing; the Patriots achieved 6 rushing first downs and 14 on the pass.

Then there were the penalties, which had both me and my Dad reaching for things to huck at the TV screen throughout the game. It was an uncharacteristically mentally lax first half for the Patriots, including Tom Brady, who was picked off once and forced to punt entirely too often. The Patriots also finished the first half with a completely unheard of 5 penalties for 102 yards, to the Colts' single five-yard penalty.

We won, so this is going to seem less like sour grapes, and for that I'm glad, because it's just the truth that outside of lackluster execution from the Pats in a few cases, those numbers were racked up through absolutely atrocious officiating. For example, apparently the definition of "defensive pass interference" now includes being tackled by the wide receiver (Ellis Hobbs v. Reggie Wayne in the second quarter). By the third quarter, Tom Brady couldn't contain his frustration when Kevin Faulk was clearly interfered with on a passing route and it was not called. Randy Moss was grabbed in midair by a defensive back in the end zone in the fourth quarter...and it was ruled offensive pass interference.

I believe in the conventional football wisdom that you never win or lose a game through the officiating alone, but I will say it did not bolster my confidence that the calls weren't going in the Patriots' favor. Penalties wound up being a big advantage for the Colts in this game, regardless of outcome. Four of their first downs--they had 23 total, two more than the Patriots--came on penalties, and the Patriots conceded close to six times as many yards as the Colts to penalties, 146 to the Colts' 25.

Otherwise, the teams were evenly matched, making such a large penalty differential even more glaring. The Colts also had a slight advantage over the Patriots in some categories, from time of possession (30:14 to the Pats' 29:44) to total yards rushing (119 to 105) to total first downs (23 to the Pats' 21). In most other statistical measures, the Pats barely edged the Colts: 342 total net yards to 329; 237 passing yards to 218 (the Patriots most certainly did not stop the out route as Jamie had recommended).

What it finally came down to was situational execution. In other words--making the big plays. Tom Brady was intercepted twice, and Peyton Manning lost a fumble once. But it's when those turnovers occurred that turned out to make a bigger difference. The Colts would score go-ahead points on each of their possessions following Brady's interceptions, but it was at a more crucial point in the game that Manning's gaffe occurred--with less than three minutes to go in the game, behind by four points.

Here the relentless Patriots defense combined two delicate maneuvers that wrested the ball from Manning--first Jarvis Green chopped the ball out of Manning's hands, and then Roosevelt Colvin reached out for it as it flew through the air, juggling it for a few heart-stopping seconds before he got a good grip on it. But he did.

Meanwhile, look at Brady late in the game: two of his three touchdown passes came in the fourth quarter. His two longest passing plays of the game were the ones that set up those touchdowns--one a 55-yard bomb to Moss before the score that made it 20-17 and another 33-yard completion to Donte Stallworth before the go-ahead points were punched in.

The two scoring drives in the fourth quarter were among the longest of the game; the first drive was the longest single drive at 71 yards and the second was the third-longest at 51 yards (only the Pats' 62-yard first-quarter drive was above it). And yet while they were the longest in terms of net yards, they were among the shortest of the game in terms of time of possession: 1:43 for the first fourth-quarter drive and an unbelievable 43 seconds for the second one.

Another place where the Pats and Colts' numbers this game stand in contrast to one another is in the red zone. In three trips inside the 20, the Colts were 1/3, and also 1/3 with goal to go. The Patriots were 3/4 in the red zone and 2/2 with goal to go.

The picture that's emerging here is one of a Patriots team that waited for the waning moments of the game to strike on a tired defense and a quarterback not known for clutching up late (with last year's AFC championship game excluded). Within that, there's also the sense of a defensive unit that stiffened up late in drives and in the red zone to minimize the damage from the Colts' offense.

Suddenly, the "running up the score" mentality of stomping the gas hard late in the game that's been so lambasted is starting to look like a training tactic. Suddenly, the Pats' emphasis on driving through the red zone--on both offense and defense, regardless of the game situation--is looking like a key element of their success today. Suddenly, it might be time to question whether there was a method to Belichick's madness this season after all.

Statcounter C2F

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